Sting
by The13thGirlWithoutASoul
Summary: She stared at him for a moment... "This is what I want." Wasp/Yellowjacket/Ant Man. Rated 'T' for curse words. Set after episode 26.
1. Maskless

**Title- Sting**

**Rating- T**

**Summary- She stared at him for a moment... "This is what I want." Wasp/Yellowjacket/Ant Man. Rated 'T' for curse words. Set after episode 26.**

A knock at the door, which was odd. They usually ignored him nowadays. He raised his head but didn't respond; the door opened anyway.

Wasp entered the room and he raised his eyebrows under his mask. "What are you doing here?" he asked, as she sat on his bed and began to shift around in her handbag. She seemed to be looking for something. "Mr. Lang returned your costume yesterday." she said without looking up from the costume, which she was refolding. "Said thanks, but no thanks, if you get my meaning."

She glanced up at him to gauge his reaction before setting the helmet on top of the costume and sitting down on the bed, checking herself out in the small mirror on the wall. "So, now you can stop ripping off my color scheme."

"Jan, I had a spare costume. If I wanted to—"

"Actually, you _have_ three." replied the Wasp, pulling off one glove and examining her French manicure.

"I do–um, did?"

"Yep. Now go put it on." she pointed towards the bathroom. He frowned at her, eyeing it. "This isn't mine. I'm Yellowjacket."

"And I'm getting really annoyed with that." Jan replied, tossing the helmet at his head. He caught it quickly, putting it down on the dresser. He kept his hands on it, back to her and facing the wall. "Be careful with that. There's technology in there that—" he stopped when she shrunk and landed on the helmet, crossing her arms.

"Buuuut its not yours, remember, Yellowjacket? It's Hank's."

"He's dead."

"Then who are you?" she only moved her eyes and not her head to look up at him. He shrugged. "I'm Yellowjacket."

"Yeah. We established that." and there it was. She had failed. It used to be so easy, but now, she couldn't get through to him. Why not?

"Um, Jan, are you crying?"

"No.." she touched her cheek and brought it back wet. "Yes."

"Why?"

"Not sure. Probably your fault," she sniffled, fluttering over to the tissue box on the dressed and sitting on it, using a corner to dab at her eyes so not to look like a raccoon. "Hank."

He turned suddenly and punched the wall next to the dresser. This wouldn't have been so bad if the tissue box hadn't been on the edge of the dresser, and as it was, she heard the full impact, and jumped. "Ms. van Dyne? Iron Man informs you he heard the commotio—" she ignored JARVIS.

"What the _hell_, Hank?"

"It's Yellowjacket, damn it!"

"NO, IT'S REALLY NOT!" She hopped off the tissue box and grew to full size, still sitting on the dresser. Putting her head in her hands, she muttered, "Your name is Hank Pym. You are a...scientist, an Avenger," she paused for a moment before adding the last bit. "And my best friend."

He stared for a moment, then shook his head. "I'm better then him."

"Do you really believe that?" she replied, her voice just shy of yelling.

"What is wrong with you?" Yellowjacket yelled, throwing the helmet to the floor. "Am I never to be rid of him?"

"What's wrong with me? What about you? You're talking about offing yourself just 'cause you dislike...yourself! And...woah, that sounded better in my head." she yelled back because she could, balling her hands into fists.

"What is wrong with you is that I am fighting for you! I'm not ignoring you for scientific endeavors! I am everything that he could not be, and you still don't—"

She missed the rest of his rant while picking her jaw up off the ground. "But I don't want—"

"Yes, you do!" he pointed to his mask, which still covered his face. "This is what you want!"

There was silence.

Wasp stared at him for a moment, then a look of pain came over her face. She reached up and pulled off the mask, staring at the reflection in the mirror. "This is what I want. Not Yellowjacket, Giant Man, or even Ant Man. I want Henry Pym."  
A few tears slid down her cheeks.

She closed the door behind her on her way out, leaving him to sit down and think about a few things.

**I don't think Hank has multiple personality syndrome, but it is still a serious condition when you think that you have to become completely different persona because your real self isn't adequate. But...whoever he is needs a therapist. **

**Jan X Hank is my all time favorite A:EMH pairing, and I am very interested in the concept of Yellowjacket, Yellowjacket X Wasp X Ant Man, etc. I enjoy learning about mental problems, probably cause I have a few myself.**

**So be prepared to be flooded with angst and fluff :)**


	2. Lost

**I own nothing.**

* * *

"Well, the danger's passed now. We don't need him any more, so we ask him to leave. Toldja I'm good with firing people speeches." Iron Man twirled around in his swivel chair, bored.

"I'm not sure that's fair, Tony." Captain America countered, frowning. "He's important to Wasp, and—"

"Hey, if he leaves, I'm all for it. He creeps me out." Hawkeye was polishing his bow with a soft-cloth. "Like he's Pym's face, only psycho."

"I am not sure you are correct on this front. He has proven his worth to the team on several occasions during the invasion of Kree and Galactis. Should we really abandon him when his personality does not prove to our liking?" Black Panther looked imploringly through his mask at his teammates.

"Waddaya think, Jade Jaws?" Hawkeye asked, slapping Hulk on the forearm. The Hulk shrugged, casting a dark glare at Tony. "He hurts people, gets smashed."

Miss Marvel sighed. "Okay, yeah, he's kinda crazy and I'm not exactly his biggest fan—and also I really think Hank has to stop acting like someone else—but Jan thinks we can trust him, and he doesn't really bother anyone, so to speak—"

"Nay, but considering his temperament, he may start a battle yet." Thor interrupted. "I say we tell him that he is no longer an Avenger immediately."

"I agree. Let's go talk to him." Iron Man said, crossing his arms in superiority.  
"Woah, hold on a minute, Thor." Captain America cautioned. "We don't have all the Avengers' decisions in yet. Vision hasn't given us an opinion and neither has..." he trailed off when he saw Janet standing in the doorway of the assembly hall.

The look in her eyes showed that she had heard every word.

"Wasp—" he started, then stopped. There was nothing he could say to amend the situation. She gave a laugh, though it sounded more like a quiet sob. "I see why no one gave me the memo about the meeting."

"Jan—" Carol started, but she turned on her heel and walked back down the hallway.

Sitting on her bed, she wrapped her arms around her legs and rested her chin on her knees, a position she had not assumed since she was a child. How could none of them see that 'Yellowjacket' was Hank, who they all accepted and called a friend? How could he not see that?

Then again, maybe they were right. Hank was predictable and smart and kind and dependable and...Hank, and Yellowjacket was unpredictable and smart and kind of aggressive and not very dependable and..._not_ Hank; and she could see why the others wanted him off the team.

Hell, she didn't want Yellowjacket on the team.

There was the sound of someone trying to open the door and she opened her eyes. "Go away, Steve." the sound continued and she sat up. "I said go away...Carol?" she guessed again.

There was a sound like a laser and her doorknob disappeared from sight, followed by Yellowjacket nudging the door open with his foot. She raised her eyes. "Oh. Hey, Yellowjacket."

"Finally you're calling me by my proper name." he said. She nodded and turned to face the wall. He frowned. "You're upset."

"No shit, Hank." he sighed at the name but said nothing. She continued. "Everyone thinks you're crazy." now he cracked a grin, acknowledging the possible truth behind the words. "Except you?"

"I'm...not sure."

"So you do think I'm insane." his once easygoing voice now had a hard edge to it. She swallowed instinctively and turned away from his gaze again. "Well, you can't say that you're yourself, Henry Pym." she made a point of the last two words. He twisted his body to face her and half-glare at her. She glared back.

"Henry Pym is dead."

"No, Henry Pym is scared." she shot back. "Why is that?" he was silent for too long. His eyes were cold. She bit down hard on her lower lip to keep it from shaking as she cast her eyes downwards. "I see. You can see yourself out."

Mercifully, he obliged, replacing the shrunken doorknob on the way out. She swung her feet over the edge of the bed to sit on the floor, resting her head in her hands as her chest convulsed with tearless, silent sobs.

_I lost him._

;-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-;

"Jan?"

She raised her head, staring at him with dry eyes. "Uh, hi, Cap."

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry about the meeting. No one really thought about whether it would cause...tension."

"I know, Cap. Thanks." she whispered, closing her eyes from fatigue. He took one of her hands. "Stay strong, Jan. He's hurting right now, more then he lets on." Wasp nodded, looking a bit unconvinced. "If anyone can get through to him, it's you."

He stood up, motioning to the door. "I should go now. You look tired." he left the room as abruptly as he had entered it.

_"If anyone can get through to him, it's you." _

She closed her eyes.

**A/N-I know I already messaged you, but thanks, Wasp9000, for your kind review. I'm not even a teenager yet, so I'm not always sure my writing is up to snuff with everyone else's. Thanks!Guest #1- Also, thanks for the encouraging review! It means a #2- I hope this chapter exposes a bit of how the other Avengers view Yellowjacket and how they react, as you said, to the two's problems. There will be more details in following chapters.**  
** Next: A slightly funny/wildly inappropriate part coming from Tony, and some yelling.**


	3. Small Things

**I own nothing. **  
**This chapter sucks, I'm pretty sure, sorry!**

* * *

"So we're just going to watch him for no reason?"

Tony Stark did not have an endless reservoir of patience. This was quickly drained when Clint decided to ask stupid questions. "He's suspected of being an AIM scientist. That's one reason. Another is that he could be experimenting on, and mentally torturing mutants."

"Let's skip the watching and smash," Hulk said, punching his fist into his other hand. The impact knocked over Clint, who was standing next to him, making Tony smirk. Clint scowled and the other Avengers sighed.

After the battle between the heroes of earth and Galactus, the team had had barely any threats to face, and had taken steps to distance themselves from each other. For the first time since joining the Avengers, Jan had started leaving at about ten each night to sleep in her penthouse. Steve had confined himself to the deserted gym and his room. T'Challa spent a lot of time in the dining room that nobody used because nobody there dined anymore, mostly managing Wakandan business.

Thor spent long times out-of-realm. Tony usually fell asleep at Stark Industries. Clint just never showed up. Yellowjacket kept to himself in his room. Ms. Marvel was with SWORD. Vision was updating himself. Even Hulk was so bored, he often let Banner out for lack of anything to do as the Hulk, leading to Bruce spending most of his time in the otherwise-abandoned labs.

In fact, the prospect of a new mission was the only thing that had gotten everyone together. The Avengers, in their entirety, had not assembled for weeks. Yellowjacket was bored, and he wanted to punch something. He hoped he would get the chance; the 'mission' sounded more like reconnaissance then anything. 'Just send Barton or Panther to do it. They're spies,' he thought, crossing his arms.

"And we can't arrest him without proof of him doing anything wrong, so SHIELD asked us if we would mind having a team put together to observe him for a few days, starting tomorrow. Hawkeye..." Yellowjacket smirked at his own good foresight. "Black Panther," he wondered if they would add someone else. Both would rather work alone, which would cause tension.

"Vision," minutely, he nodded his head in approval. The robot could remain relatively neutral. It brought his mind back to Vision. It was intriguing that one of his—Pym's, rather—creations possessed enough intelligence to create a sort of being like Vision. The fact that his—Pym's, rather—creation had still 'lived' completely under the radar, however, was very unsettling—

"And Wasp. We can talk more tomorrow."

His eyes flew open, one hand gripping the handle of his gun in an attempt to stop from saying something rude to Iron Man. Instead he walked out with everyone, and Captain America caught up to him.

"I thought you might be upset," he said, easily keeping pace with Yellowjacket. "It isn't anything personal against..."

He tuned out the rest of what the star-spangled Avenger said. How could he tell he was upset? He hadn't even said anything...

"But you know how Clint and T'Challa are, Vision can walk through walls, and Jan can turn small, but Tony didn't think being microscopic could help much; too many variables."

Oh. He thought Yellowjacket was upset about not being included in the mission, not that Jan was going on the mission without feasible protection (meaning him). His brown eyes turned bored as they met the Captain's blue, "I'm not too beat up about it."

Captain Roger's brow furrowed as he spoke, but the older man quickly schooled his features back to a calm expression. "I hope you're okay with Jan going without you, though."

Damn, he was good.

"Oh, I'm fine," he feigned carelessness as he quickly made his way to his room and shut the door, glad of the peace, but upon entering and seeing the Ant Man helmet on his dresser again, he proceeded to knock it off, then kick it under his bed, which did not make him feel better in the slightest.

He did, however, manage to also knock a china lamp off of the dresser as well, part of which broke into white shards of porcelain. He looked away, closing his eyes as if the sight was disturbing.

Yellowjacket hated being reminded how easily small things could break.

* * *

"Here you are."

Yellowjacket turned to see Jan behind him, hands clasped behind her back like she was apprehensive about coming into the lab. "I didn't expect to see you here." she frowned at the next thought. "You've been avoiding me ever since missions were handed out the other day."

"I haven't. And I'm not down here. Not really. I'm just looking for something I think I—I think someone—left down here."

Jan remembered why she had come in, but decided not to bring it up after all, brushing one finger against the black leather cover of what had previously been Hank's appointment book and recalling the lie she had given someone wanting to make one just that morning.

"What's that?" she felt unwelcome, staying in the doorway of the lab while Yellowjacket scrolled through databases. He frowned as if only just remembering her presence.

"Ultron's file."

"Wouldn't that be upstairs?" even she knew that all of their villain files were in the meeting hall, some copies from SHIELD files and some written by him or Tony or Steve from firsthand experience. He shook his head, not looking up.  
"Not the regular file. The other one." it was classified and much more detailed then SHIELD's copy.

Hank wrote most of that one himself, she remembered, after the first incident with Ultron, and she rubbed her shoulder almost subconsciously, recalling their last brush with him. She only remembered the file because she had refused to let him out of her sight the night after the incident, scared out of her mind that he would do something drastic, and sat drinking caffeinated coffee until four in the morning as he typed silently.

"Why do you need that?"

"Loose ends." he responded absentmindedly. "So when are you planning to go with the others for a stakeout?"

"Two days. I'm a little surprised we haven't heard from Fury yet; or even that he gave us the mission at all. I guess he thinks this is payback for getting Hill off our backs."

"Mhmm." it was clear he wasn't listening but she went on as if he were. She had always liked talking to him, especially between threats or missions that made her feel useless or vulnerable, as so many did; it often provided a degree of normalcy they had after working side by side for so long, even if one party was unconscious, comatose, sleeping, or otherwise occupied.

"I doubt we'll be getting a Christmas card from her this year, but she always has a case of the ass with something we do. Either she just enjoys being a bitch or she actually thinks we're a bunch of psychopaths living in Tony Stark's house."

Still nothing. She continued, answering her own, unasked question, and realized that she was now standing in the center of the lab; she had been walking and pacing the entire, one-sided conversation. "I'm thinking it's a mix of both. Tony says—"

He finally turned, annoyance clearly written on his features. "While I'm reasonably sure that whatever Tony said is not worth repeating, I wouldn't go on the mission if I were you." she looked hurt and he was sorry he had spoken.

"Well, then, thank goodness you're not me, then, because I'm going." there was a certain defiance to her words that sparked from his previous statement. "I get that I was designed to be useless, but I don't know that trying to prevent me from going every time I can actually put myself to good service is really fair to anyone." her tone was decidedly lighthearted, even jovial, but her words were loaded, a tossed gauntlet.

He picked it up. "If you didn't automatically assume the worst of me, then maybe this...all this... melodrama would be needless. If you ever bothered to have faith—"

"Faith in what? You said yourself that I don't know who you are!" she was getting angry at him and the world, and Hank has said a ton of odd things. Many were Science Things Rendered Completely Ununderstandable By IQs of less then 200, and a lot of them are ridiculous, or implausible, or otherwise not worth listening to (though she did anyway) but nothing was as surprising as what he said next.

"You're right."

* * *

**Okay, I apparently lied about the wildly inappropriate part. This chapter took so long and I veered so far away from what I had set out to write, I couldn't include it. Sorry if this one was bad (it was) I needed an action introductory chapter. A bit of advertising: I recently wrote 'Katarina', an Avengers movieverse fic. It's helpful to see the movie but understandable from watching the cartoon. Check it out?**

**As always, thanks so much for the kind reviews. They're very encouraging.**


	4. Red

**I still don't own anything! A/N: I finally did an outline of the story, meaning updates might come more often. Also, I have another Avengers story, a crossover with Winx Club, called Fail Safe. If you could read and review, then that would be awesome.**

* * *

She took a step back, her hand halfway to her slightly-open mouth. She had already been in the doorway so she was left staring at the plaque above the doorframe that proclaimed that Tony Stark owned it (the doorframe and lab both). "Um, you were supposed to contradict me...?" she said softly.

The words were sarcastic. Her tone was not. Yellowjacket felt a pang of guilt ring deep in the back of his mind where there was nowhere farther to shove it away, making him look down at the floor in regret, even while his jaw tightened in anger.

"Well, I just wanted to say goodbye, or something, before I left..." she let the statement hang in the air for a few seconds while Yellowjacket sifted through data.

The only sound at her exit was the soft whirring of quick wings.

* * *

"How does it work?" asked Steve, peering at the small screen in confusion. "They're wearing...cameras? Why?"

"So we can see what's going on," replied Tony in annoyance. "Here, lemme see it." reaching for the StarkPhone, he pressed a button on the side and the screen lit up to reveal the interior of a quinjet. Handing it back to Cap, the others crowded around, jockeying for the best view.

_"I hate Chicago,"_ it was Clint's voice, and Steve practically dropped the StarkPhone in surprise. Tony snatched the phone from him like it was a precious thing.

"Move," Carol jostled Tony and Steve, accidentally hitting the Captain's shoulder and pushing the latest in a line of Starks to the floor. "Sorry."

_"What are you doing in there?"_ it was Wasp's voice coming through the speaker.

"Nothing, we're fine." said Tony, with a weak warning look to the others, mostly lost on them. "We're fine."

_"So who's taking the first watch?"_ Clint asked his teammates. Muffled shuffling sounds could be heard.

_"I have no objection to watching first. Vision, will you accompany me? It would be more practical for two to go and guard each other against any ambush."_ T'Challa said.

_"Affirmative."_ was Vision's inarticulate answer. The android had not been around as of late—in fact, he had been seemingly actively avoiding the team. They really were growing apart, Yellowjacket thought as he watched.

_"So where're we staying?"_ it was Clint who spoke again. They would find out soon enough, it was almost landing time. The hotel was a nice place; a very, very nice place. Tony had reserved it, but Clint figured he would be doomed to four-stars at every turn either way; he didn't know how to choose anything but the most expensive. Jan was mostly the same way. Vision usually took Tony's suggestions on matters of such. T'Challa was a king.

"In keeping their visit secret, maybe a jet entrance wouldn't be the best idea?" Steve said in his Tony-inflicted, long-suffering manner.  
"Relax, Cap. They're going in a car to the hotel." the billionaire assured him with a wave of his hand. "Call us when you need to report something." he said into the camera, shutting it off.

"This will be bad." muttered the Hulk, crossing his massive green arms. Ms. Marvel glanced up at him.

"What are you talking about?"

"It doesn't look right. Banner agrees with me." the Hulk said nothing else on the matter, instead staring at the screen with such intensity that the others felt the screen might crack.

* * *

"Has he moved yet?" Hawkeye's voice came through Vision's communication unit, to which he replied tersely.

"Not that my sensors indicate."

"Well, don't be too chatty," muttered Hawkeye moodily. "All I was—"

"I can see him at my position. He is moving towards a lower level."

"Alright, then," Wasp held two fingers to her right headset. "We're moving in." she glanced at Hawkeye, whose shoulder she currently occupied. "You remember how we go in, right?"

Panther nodded quickly before convening with Vision and the others.

"Okay, this is creepy." Hawkeye stated as he stepped around in the spotless kitchen. Not only was there nothing, but there was less then nothing—the entire floor was impeccably clean and void of almost any furniture. "It smells like bleach."

"Someone cleaned this room recently." Panther announced.

"Didn't they?" an unfamiliar voice asked. All four heroes spun around immediately to come face-to-face with their mark. Stepping into a stance for combat, Hawkeye was just loading an arrow into his bow when the face they were face-to-face with became that of Amora the Enchantress, eyes eclipsed with white and red light.

Hawkeye loosed the arrow, a rather futile effort, however, as Amora turned it to ash before it was within three feet of her. "Make sure she hasn't actually been torturing anyone, Panther, Vision! Wasp and I can handle her." Hawkeye yelled to the others. Throwing her hands into the air, a dome-like shield of fire flared for a minute around her body, forcing her attackers back a few feet.

As shots were fired at her, the woman's eyes flickered from white to its usual green color, then back again. This seemed to be normal for her while in combat, but when Wasp hit her in the side of the head, the white disappeared entirely, and her glittering, malice-filled eyes lit on Wasp, widening as she fell to the ground.

"Child," she rasped as if it were a statement. Hawkeye paused to frown in confusion at her. Amora's eyes were rolling back in her head with the effort of fighting off Surtur's mind control. "End—" she said, head rolling back.

Wasp reached out with two fingers and touched Amora's shoulder to make sure she was (or wasn't) dead. In all fairness, she couldn't have seen the way the (centuries) older woman's neck went ridged, the way her eyes lit once more with colorless white.

And then there was an explosion of fire.


	5. Searchlight

**Chapter Five: Thanks so much for the reviews! This is the most popular a story of mine has ever been : ). Not my longest chapter, but the next one should come faster. **

Hawkeye was a SHIELD agent before he was an Avenger, and SHIELD agents learned how to deal with an exploding bomb as one of their first lessons, so he was relatively not-hyperventilating/panicking/useless as the house went up in flames, catching the wood floors and even the metal fridge, magical that it was.

"Where is he?" newly re-demonic Amora screeched, making him cringe and cough as the archer's mind raced. Panther and Vision were in the basement, and it was bad up here. It wouldn't take long to spread to the basement. Vision wouldn't need air or be affected, but Panther was as human as he was.

"Who?" he yelled as he jumped back from the beam, stringing another arrow and aiming it at the door. Air was running out faster then one would think, and there was something else he needed to—

_Shit_. "Wasp! Jan!" he shot the arrow, which burst the window in a pane of glass, but didn't see the impact as he turned and searched for his teammate, pulling the hooded mask off of his head in the heat of the air.

Amora held out her hand, fire in her palm darkening and swirling into a creature-like mass which she proceeded to direct it in some strange tongue to presumably attack him.

"Wasp?" it was getting hotter and darker, and he aimed for another window, this time hearing the crash but unable to see through all the smoke. A chunk of ceiling rained plaster down onto his head and he turned to see Amora before him.

"Where is the Thunderer?" she demanded, shoving him to the floor with enhanced strength. He jerked away on the floor before jumping up again, hitting her in the face with his bow in an attempt to distract her.

Surprised to feel that she wasn't hot at all, he kicked her in the stomach, knocking her over, before running off again, this time to the basement, where he hoped Wasp had gone to. Upon finding the door, still untouched by the fire and forcing it open, he found Vision, unaffected by the flames, and Black Panther crouched on a bookcase with one hand over his mask's mouthpiece. Did he have some sort of filter inside?

"Guys!" he yelled over the sounds of fiery rage upstairs, "Guys, is Jan with you? Please tell me she is."

"She is not." replied Panther, making him groan and turn back upstairs.

"We have to find her," Hawkeye replied, trying the door. In the back of the archer's mind, he knew that Vision would be the best choice, since he had no need for air, and knew the android probably knew this as well, but Vision did not offer Hawkeye and Panther the chance to get out of the house and it would be awkward asking.

They rushed headlong into the flames.

* * *

_"It's not alive, and it's __not__ creepy. It's supposed to resemble an ant's head." he saw himself—not himself, but he was too tired to argue with his head any longer—speak to the teammates who, however unknowingly, had been warning him all along. _

_To put it very bluntly, he felt horrified. His own mind—own ideas, even, simply taken to an extreme!—had been used to almost destroy the human race. Ashamedly, he clung to the horror that proved, to his own mind if no one else, that he was indeed still part of the fatally flawed race that inhabited Earth. _

_As he watched himself speak, he felt contempt not for the creature but for himself. He had been speaking, at the time, in the creature's defense—in appearance, but all the same...! He was the scientist; he had to see these things. In his self-assured arrogance, he had even felt a moment of accomplishment after Ultron 5 was dispatched with; like the hero he claimed to be without a shred of the understanding that he was both blessed and cursed with throughout his life. _

_Unlike Clint or Tony's early years, he had a relatively nice childhood. Loving, fairly generous parents whose only fault was to pass on before their only child reached young adulthood—but it was alright, under the circumstances: after his parents, then there had been science, and then there had been Maria, and then there had been science and Jan, and now there was only Yellowjacket and the faint hope that this, he who was everything that Hank Pym and Ant Man could not be, was his salvation. _

_But through all of that, there was the overwhelming force that he both hated and loved most of his life: thinking. Knowledge was good, and he had wanted more and more of it as he got older, but thinking was usually more hated then loved. _

_Hated because he knew, as a child, as most children don't, the thick, bold line of right from wrong; he knew how people thought, how he thought, reflected on his thoughts and understood that he was different from the other children this way. Hated because it was a terrible sensation to think all the time, because one who does think all the time envies whoever can find it within themselves to think at-least-some-of-the-time and still remain lighthearted and not cynical, not sure that humanity was doomed, usually imbecilic, violent barbarians who __just didn't understand. _

_Therefore it stood to reason that, though envy, someone who thinks far too much can grow to appreciate someone like Jan in their daily lives, and appreciation is a ridiculously dangerous thing— _

"Sir?"

Yellowjacket woke up suddenly, angry at whatever had happened that refused him even the ability to finish a nightmare in peace, before Carol rushed in, wearing her costume under her dressing gown, mask in hand, moving with rashness that must've contributed to the situation at hand, and interrupting JARVIS.

"Hank—Hank, you have...to come...quick—it's the team in Chicago...they're..." he didn't bother to correct her, instead standing up quickly. Carol allowed herself a moment to catch her breath while he waited impatiently. "It's Jan—and, Hank, it's bad."


	6. A House Divided

**A/N: I am so sorry for the long wait! **

**I was sick, and then there was Sandy (thank goodness nothing was destroyed) and then there was my best friend being put into group therapy, and then I started and grappled with a very, very harmful, bad habit I hate to have taken up again.**

**But enough of excuses. BTW I completely made up everything about the Skeller's Theory, including its existence. **

* * *

Yellowjacket didn't remember much during the ride except that Tony very loudly cursed the entire way there, having been briefed by Hawkeye, and Steve said nothing, pacing up and down in silence. He didn't remember much about their landing, where there blue and white flashing SHIELD ambulances and crafts and one very upset Fury and one absolutely _murderous_ (but very triumphant) Maria Hill.

Iron Man was immediately cornered by the two leaders of SHIELD for a good chewing-out, leaving Yellowjacket free of any judgement to comb through the gigantic mess (this would be a headache for Stark in the morning) and look for Jan.

He found her with Hawkeye and Panther. Hawkeye was shouting and protesting at the poor young agent attempting to address the matter of smoke inhalation while Panther sat quietly, refusing any treatment but not attempting to speak, probably using some old Wakandan cure (they seemed to have mastered everything else).

Jan sat between them talking quietly to a SHIELD agent, in, seemingly, no pain at all but for the mask she put over her face every time she took a breath. Yellowjacket's need to punch someone senseless rose.

Her face wasn't too burned, probably first degree, but all over her shoulders, arms, and the part of her chest exposed by her dress were covered in blisters and what looked like deep wounds, though they were most likely third degree burns. Her costume was slightly scorched.

Noticing him, the agent who had quiveringly given up on Hawkeye said something to the one talking to Jan, who conveyed the message to her. She looked at him; he walked forward reluctantly.

"I notice I was right," he said icily, then, "Your pain would have been quite unnecessary if you had listened to me." she seemed more tired then hurt, however, as evidenced by her next statement.

"Can't feel anything." her voice was scratchy. "The doctors say the nerve endings got destroyed, but—"

Before she had a chance to finish, Yellowjacket started talking loudly enough that a casual passerby could mistake it for yelling. "I heard what happened from Stark—what are you, an idiot? You went _up_ to her?"

She glared for a second before looking past him as Iron Man and Ms. Marvel came up. The latter asked how she was feeling.

Addressing the two speculatively, she remarked, "They said I might need to get a skin graft, too."

"Please—if you're going under any knife, it's going to have 'Stark Industries' stamped on it." Tony replied.

They seemed almost jovial. They didn't understand. Yellowjacket walked off, away from the sounds of helicopter blades and flashing light to stare at the blackness off the forest surrounding the house Amora had been inside.

"She isn't so helpless, you know."

He turned around quickly to see Captain America standing there. His face was drawn.

"I don't know what you're talking about." he replied. The older man nodded like he believed Yellowjacket.

"She kept doing good work after you left. There were times someone a little weaker might've just given up; even let themselves die." Steve Rogers said, and left it at that. He turned to go back towards the others but Yellowjacket felt like responding.

"The Skeller Theory." he said.

"Excuse me?" Steve responded, turning back around.

"I—Py—I...I had the opportunity to work with a behavioral scientist called Dr. Skeller who managed only one breakthrough in his entire career. He created the theory that anything with a mind has the instinct to keep going even if they don't think they want to. He was sure that there is a need for fulfillment in any sort of goal that forces a person to want to keep going, even if there is no present goal."

* * *

"Tony?" Carol spoke into the intercom in her room. She barely stayed in it, preferring SWORD's quarters, but at the moment she had no work to be done there. "Have you got a sec?"

Tony's voice came through the speakers on the wall. "It's this or paperwork."

"JARVIS is doing that thing again."

"Great." he muttered under his breath. "Is he doing something you didn't ask for or not doing what you did ask for?"

"He's giving me the silent treatment," Carol replied flatly. "I asked for the time and all I get is...well, nothing."

Tony's voice faded away and was slowly replaced by what sounded like tapping and clicking. "Hmm. You may be right but—nothing is broken."

"What?" Carol asked. The intercom had already been turned to another room on Tony's side. Instead of continuing to talk with Carol, he paged Yellowjacket and Steve.

"What do you need me for?" asked Yellowjacket as he and Cap came in. Tony frowned at him slightly, still disliking his attitude about the fire two months prior, but felt he needed his help; he was having an uncomfortable inkling.

"Keep your voice down. I don't know who could be listening."

"What do you mean?"

"You might not have noticed this, but JARVIS has been malfunctioning lately. Like, a lot. And every so often I find out that I can't access the system." he pointed to the StarkPad on his desk.

"So? Maybe it needs to reboot." suggested Steve. Tony looked at him like he had just suggested they all stand on their heads singing sailor songs.

"Or maybe someone's in the process of hacking it," replied Yellowjacket."Where's Vision? He could help us figure it out—" he cut himself off.

"I don't know. He left his Avengers card here this morning but he's not here. Or at least, JARVIS doesn't say so. I don't think it really matters what JARVIS thinks anymore."

"Who do you think could have done this to JARVIS?" asked Steve. "I can't be too much help figuring out what's wrong but maybe we an figure out who's done it."

"Possibly SHIELD, maybe HYDRA, and maybe Dr. Doom, if he has enough recent tech from me." Tony replied thoughtfully. The two bounced ideas off each other for a few minutes until Tony realized Yellowjacket hadn't said a word since he suggested hacking.

"You still with us?" he asked him, prompting Yellowjacket to turn and look at him.

"The Skeller Theory." he said quietly, standing up before glancing around quickly and sitting down again. "Quickly," he said out of the side of his mouth, "Is there anyone else who could hack JARVIS? Could Vision?"

"Probably not. After that run-in with Purple Man when Vision accessed the house systems I changed the security."

"Could Ultron?"


	7. Willpowers

A/N: This took a lot of Wikipedia research. Bear with me, please. Okay, people, crunch time! Maybe one, two more chapters before we're complete! I got this from myself. I've been having a lot of mental battle recently, but they're mostly for eating and willpower. Surprisinghow well borderline-anorexic-13-year-old-girls' thoughts can translate into adult male superheroes with identity crises.

* * *

"What are you talking about?" asked Cap, standing up. Tony waved him back down. "I thought we took care of Ultron months ago. That's why we have Vision, right?"

"Vision is Ultron's creation." Yellowjacket said darkly. "Isn't it possible that there was some built-in instinct for Vision to become Ultron?"

"Not unless his software changed recently," replied Tony grimly, "And it did, with his update. I didn't bother to screen it."

"Ultron put in—" Steve lowered his voice, "A safety catch, in case he was defeated?"

"That would make sense. It sounds like something...like something Pym would think of for his device." Yellowjacket said slowly.

Steve stood up. "We'd better get the others by hand—we don't know if JARVIS can be trusted, after all."

Tony's eyed widened as he stared at the space in the doorway behind them, and he stood up suddenly. "Actually, guys, it looks like the party came to us."

* * *

"Your measures are unnecessary." Ultron's voice droned out of Vision's body. Ms. Marvel took the moment to fire at him. Vision turned transparent, allowing the attack to go through him, and turned to slam into her forcefully. She fell back for a moment before leaping up again. When the Hulk leapt at him, he disappeared, reappearing behind him to hit him and send him flying.

Iron Man, Black Panther, and Yellowjacket were not fighting the battle a few stories below with Ms. Marvel, Hulk, Wasp, and Cap. Instead, they stood next to the reactor trying to reboot JARVIS and the house. (Or at least Panther and Iron Man were. Yellowjacket—who the other two had taken with them, recognizing a mentally dangerous situation when they saw one—was mostly thinking with himself—Pym—himself. Wasn't it? Wasn't he insane to not be the person he was born as?)

But what Pym—he—Pym—had done was so irredeemable (the entire world destroyed and it would be your fault, Pym—Yel—Pym, rather. Almost killed everyone and everyone that you and they all loved) it was impossible to continue. And with Yellowjacket there was hope to be different but—  
Was different good?

Pym would probably not like Yellowjacket, he reflected, quite less detached from the nagging presence of ex-Ant Man then he was willing to admit. Yellowjacket was reckless and guiltless and did things not because they were right but because it was what needed in the second of action—but did that make Ant Man, who was cautious and reserved and regretful and did things because they were right or because he had no choice wrong?

One side said yes, and the other a very resolute no, and suddenly the man formerly known as Henry Pym was no one at all, watching all of his—Pym's—Yellowjacket's—his— thoughts occur as distantly as the battle below.

This wasn't normal. One shouldn't do this. It could be unhealthy. Who is right? Can someone always be right? Then who is the most right? Who did the least evil? On what scale? What is the measure of a life? Or a thousand lives? Six billion? Shouldn't he know? He had weighed it.

There was something frighteningly tantalizing about being Yellowjacket that couldn't be found within a ten-mile radius of Pym. When he was Pym there was guilt and responsibility and background and past. Yellowjacket was difference and horrifying freedom and no ability to care. Yellowjacket was to be different from Ant Man—the way Ant Man was had almost destroyed the world. Wasn't any way better?

Yes—no—yesnoyesnoyesnoyesno

No

_Yes!_

The man formerly known as Henry Pym had never been so exceptionally strong when he was normal-sized. He had never prided himself on non-intellectual power. So why did he feel so stupidly weak as he prepared to retreat back to Yellowjacket, the shelter from self-blame that Pym—not Py—that Pym had hidden in for the past few months?

_You can't leave_

_But it would be right_

_No it wouldn't_

_It's better as Yellowjacket_

_It's _right_ to be Pym_

_I can't do it_

Yellowjacket could still save the day. But not as Pym would. He was not Pym.  
"It's going to take a while—come on!" said Tony to T'Challa. Yellowjacket stepped forward.

"I'm coming with you."

_You can prove to them that they don't need Pym._


End file.
